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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24361036">Please, Don't Fly Away</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lost_Elf/pseuds/Lost_Elf'>Lost_Elf</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Borderlands (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Atlas CEO Rhys, Established Relationship, Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Insecurity, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Post-Borderlands 3 (Video Game), Wings AU, no beta we die like men</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 10:02:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,830</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24361036</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lost_Elf/pseuds/Lost_Elf</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Rhys has a hobby – he does nature photography. One day, as he is ditched by his sort-of-boyfriend again, he sees a strange bird.</p><p>**** fluffy story with a lot of feelings; not traditional wings au ^.^ ****</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Timothy Lawrence/Rhys</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lemscape/gifts">Lemscape</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Inspired by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/1578023">Paint It Purple</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/resonae/pseuds/resonae">resonae</a>.</p><p>For <a href="https://twitter.com/Lemscape">LemLem</a>, because they are cool! ^.^</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The key to being a CEO and not losing your mind are hobbies. Find a hobby and relax every once in a while. Carve animals out of wood, make voodoo dolls of your enemies, bake pies! Anything that helps you sleep at night – the good guy edition.</p><p>Rhys’ hobby is art. Now, he is no professional, that’s not the point. He does it for fun, and if maybe his ego swells to the point of bursting whenever someone comments on a photo he took or a picture he drew, then what? He can be proud of his art, right?</p><p>Yes, Rhys Strongfork, the CEO of Atlas, the man who opened the Vault of the Traveller, likes to take photos of birds, snails and other interesting creatures, and draw silly pictures.</p><p>Right now, he is taking a day off. He was hoping to spend it with Timothy Lawrence, his... sort-of-boyfriend. It is complicated. They are both in denial, though Rhys is beginning to realise that he cannot call the man anything else than his partner with how much time they spend with each other and the moving in thing. Timothy lives with him. They cook together, eat together, watch movies together. They are boyfriends, yes.</p><p>Rhys frowns as he realises that he stopped walking, too deep in his head. Promethea's nature might not be its biggest strength, but with Atlas’ influence, it is slowly beginning to bloom again. Many more species live there now that the re-cultivation is in progress.</p><p>The thing about Timothy Lawrence is that he is gone. Rhys was hoping to spend the day with him, arranging a day off, and Tim looked excited to do it. But then in the morning he ran out of the house without even finishing his breakfast, saying something about important business.</p><p>It wasn’t the first time. This kept happening at random intervals. Timothy would get lost for several hours or days and come back absolutely exhausted with some weak ass excuse.</p><p>The feeling that gripped Rhys’ chest wasn’t jealousy. It wasn’t concern, either. He wasn’t that pure. He was just... hurt. <em>Butthurt</em> that his sort-of-boyfriend didn’t trust him with whatever he was doing.</p><p>Obviously, Tim wasn’t spying. Rhys had told, shown and given him so much fake data that had never seen the light of day again that he was a hundred percent sure that Timothy Lawrence was not a spy. (He had a right to be this careful. Tim also didn’t trust him at first, thinking Rhys would kill him just for the face.)</p><p>His top theory were panic attacks or anxiety. Tim went through a lot, and if he sometimes needed to escape everything, then it was fine. But why didn’t he trust Rhys with that? They talked about their past trauma and the horrors they went through. Why didn’t Tim just tell Rhys that he had problems?</p><p>He had stopped in the middle of the trail again. The CEO was happy that no-one was around to see him moping like that. He must have looked pathetic.</p><p>Just as he thought so, a bird chirpped close to him. Carefully, he turned around, seeing the little singer on a low branch of a tree. Quickly, he raised his camera and took a photo, just as the bird flopped its wings and flew away. The picture was perfect.</p><p>Rhys liked to use old-style, heavy cameras more than any modern little cube that got pernamently lost if you dropped it in the high grass. For a reason that is more than apparent with that said. But also to feel the weight of the device in his hands, as he couldn’t feel the photos.</p><p>He walked for one more hour, but no more lucky action shots happened, even though he had done more than enough moping. Eventually, it was time to return to the apartment. It was still empty, Timothy’s breakfast hidden under a flipped over bowl, now completely cold.</p><p>After eating a lunch alone, Rhys sat down in his little study and took out the drawing set. An old bunch of pencils and crayons, really.</p><p>He transferred the picture of the bird to his cybernetics, briefly searching the net for its name. It didn’t have any.  It wasn’t unusual for new species to develop or old to return on terraformed planets. Rhys didn’t give it much mind. He will call the bird Timmy for now and name it properly later.</p><p>It was a challenge to draw a bird that is just taking off, its wings flopping and creating a smudge in the middle of the photo. But Rhys had a lot of free time today.</p><p>Four hours later, the picture was partially (which means not by far) finished, and Rhys went to stretch his legs. He called a few friends, offhandedly asking if they have seen Timothy today. As always, nobody had seen him.</p><p>Just as he got back to his desk, in an even sourer mood, a little chime got his attention. Behind his window on the sill, a little bird sat and sang. It looked exactly like the one on the photo and on the picture. And before he could even blink to capture it with his ECHOeye, it flew away.</p><p>“Bye, Timmy!” he called. “Come back soon!”</p><p>Drawing was a good hobby. It took a lot of attention to get the colours right. Rhys didn’t even notice when another twenty minutes passed and the door to the house opened.</p><p>“Honey?” Timothy’s voice calls out.</p><p>Pet names, yes. Another sign of a serious relationship, yet they still act like it isn’t one. Why? Doesn’t Timothy want Rhys? What if he just can’t imagine spending the rest of his life with yet another CEO?</p><p><em>Great.</em> To add to his sour, butthurt mood, now he is also sad and feeling insecure.</p><p>“Oh, here you are.” Now the voice is at the door of his study. “Are you drawing?” He sounds a little nervous, but he is probably ready to pretend that nothing ever happened. “That is very pretty. What is the bird called? I’ve never seen it before.” Too close behind him now, and the urge to turn around is too strong, but Rhys is <em>angry</em>, he had been abandoned <em>again</em>.</p><p>Strong arms hug him from behind, gently pulling him into a hug, and Rhys sighs, relaxing into it. He feels lips at his temple, hears the apology hidden in the gesture.</p><p>“Where have you been?” he asks, trying not to sound like a whiny kid.</p><p>Timothy doesn’t even try to explain, remains quiet. Rhys carefully pushes the engulfing arms away and goes back to drawing. He is not the CEO of Atlas today, he can afford a little pouting.</p><p>Eventually, Timothy leaves the room, giving Rhys space that he doesn’t want. What he wants is to wake up in the morning on his rare day off, have a breakfast with his— his <em>whatever</em>, and then do fun stuff together. Maybe go explore the nature.</p><p>What he gets is an empty room and a picture of a bird that doesn’t exist.</p><p>It is late in the evening when Rhys drags himself out of the study, rummaging the fridge for some leftovers that didn’t grow legs yet. He is about to eat a hardboiled egg and a piece of bread when Timothy quietly walks in, takes the items from his hands and takes a fresh sandwich from under a flipped bowl.</p><p>“Thank you,” Rhys mumbles. It sounds too loud in the big sad house. (Technically, it is penthouse, but it is only a few floors above the ground and doesn’t feel that fancy.)</p><p>Timothy walks out of the kitchen, giving him space that makes him feel more alone than he felt after crushing on Pandora in a broken rescue pod.</p><p>In the end, Timothy’s question if he should take the couch tonight is what breaks him. Rhys wraps his arms around his neck and pulls him into a hug, not letting go until Timothy swears to stay with him. The double seems a little taken aback but promises anyway, stroking Rhys’ back gently.</p><p>They sleep snuggled close to each other, their bodies intertwined. Rhys seems small and vulnerable in Timothy’s arms, and Timothy is hot and solid and <em>there</em>. Not leaving even in the nightmares that haunt the CEO that night.</p><p>The morning is soft and fluffy. Tim makes breakfast to bed and they cuddle while they eat. They take a shower together, and then he walks with Rhys to his office, parting with a long kiss.</p><p>Eventually, the ruined day is forgotten, life moves on, as it always does. Things remain unsaid and question buried, and the two live happily together in one house, sleep in one bed under a new drawing of a beautiful bird, and tiptoe around Timothy’s secret.</p><p>Until it happens again, but this time, he doesn’t come back.</p><p>It never took so long. The Vault Hunter had been gone for over a week after being seen running out of their house at noon, and nobody had heard from him since. Rhys is torn between launching a search operation, sending his best people, maybe even hiring the Vault Hunters, and just forgetting and getting over it. He feels like he is reaching his limit. As much as he likes Timothy, the constant random disappearing just can’t be healthy in a relationship. But at the same time, he knows he won’t let it go, and if Tim takes a little longer, he will use all of Atlas’ resources to find him.</p><p>He is sitting in his study when something interesting happens. There are papers strewn all over his desk, and he has too much work, and it would probably be better to do this in the office where he has a better computer and other resources. He missed the peace of the apartment, though. And maybe he hoped Tim would come home and hug him from behind, telling him to take a break.</p><p>But Tim <em>wouldn’t</em> because he was <em>gone</em> without as much as leaving a message.</p><p>To nobody’s surprise, Rhys isn’t getting much job done. He sighs and tries to focus, but then he hears a tune, a little chime behind the window. Looking up, he sees <em>Timmy.</em></p><p>“Well, at least you still care about me,” he chuckles as he slowly reaches for a camera. Of course, there is no evidence that this is the same bird as last time, and even then there is no evidence that it is the same one as in the field, but since the species is still not registered, he can just call them all Timmy.</p><p>“Hey, little guy,” he hums as he takes a few photos, and the bird keeps sitting there, looking at him. It is beautiful. Not too colourful, mostly brown, but there are some bright yellow feathers mixed in, and the fluff around his legs and on his neck is pinkish.</p><p>Deciding to try his luck, Rhys carefully opens the window. He is not supposed to do that; the atmosphere of Promethea is not the cleanest, but the air conditioning will clean the air again in an hour. The bird remains on the windowsill but jumps a little further away, eyes bright and cautious.</p><p>“I won’t be ogling for long,” Rhys promises. “Just a few photos that aren’t taken through a window. So I can draw you again sometime.”</p><p>As if understanding what he is saying, the bird poses for him. It jumps around, showing off, even spreading its wings. And when Rhys puts the camera down, it sings its little song.</p><p>Who knows what urges Rhys to outstretch his hand and offer it to the bird. It feels like the right thing to do. But Timmy is still just a small bird, so it startles and flies away when the hand gets too near. Rhys swallows down his disappointment, reminding himself that he is not a princess form a cartoonish musical. Of course Timmy flew away. And maybe he should have given it a different name.</p><p>He is about to close the window again when the bird comes back. Its flight is rather uneven, and it crashes into the glass at first before landing on his desk, frantically looking around.</p><p>“Woah, easy, little guy!” Rhys breaths out quietly. Having a confused little bird in his house feels a little like a magical experience. He carefully steps closer, hoping that maybe by escaping from him the bird will find a way back outside, but it just flops around blindly, ending up hitting the glass again.</p><p>As the bird lays on its back, Rhys finally notices a small detail – it is missing its right paw. Claw. Whatever it is called. (He can call it whatever he wants in his head.) It seems to be already healed and the bird didn’t have a problem standing or jumping around. Still, he winces sympathetically, flexing his own cybernetic hand. “Welcome to the club, Timmy. Wait, is it a leg or a hand for you?”</p><p>The bird doesn’t answer, standing up again. It shakes its head and fluffs up its feathers, ready to take off again, but then it suddenly jumps, as if hit by an invisible force, and it falls off the desk, to the ground.</p><p>But what Rhys sees on the ground when he looks down isn’t a little bird.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>So, Rhys might have fainted, but that happens when you see something like that. He regains consciousness laying on something soft and warm. His tie is loosened up and two top buttons of his shirt undone, as well as the button of his pants. His shoes were taken off too. Someone tried to make him comfortable.</p><p>Said someone is sneaking out of the room right now, with a heavy, guilty expression on his scarred face.</p><p>“Tim, wait!” Rhys yells as soon as he realises that the double is about to leave again, and judged by the duffel bag on his shoulder, he wants to disappear forever. The CEO’s tongue is numb and words sluggish, and when the Vault Hunter doesn’t turn around, he fears that he wasn’t heard, wasn’t understood, and so he stands up quickly, determined to run after the man.</p><p>He might have miscalculated, because he loses balance quickly. Blood thrums in his ears as he falls to the ground again, making the panicked yelp of his own name seem dulled and coming from far away. He doesn’t lose his consciousness completely this time, and so he feels and sees Timothy carefully scooping him up in his arms and putting him on the bed again.</p><p>Rhys’ metal arm takes a firm hold of the other man’s shirt – he goes as far as to consciously lock up the rotors in it, making it almost impossible to overpower – preventing Tim from leaving. “Don’t leave,” he tries to say, but it comes out as an incoherent mumble. “<em>Please</em>.”</p><p>A mechanical hand gently takes his, very carefully trying to pry his fingers open. When Tim realises that Rhys is not letting go, the guilt in his eyes morphs to panic, and the CEO can only watch in shock as the Vault Hunter simply tears his t-shirt to pieces to escape his grasp. He isn’t quick enough to catch him again, and Timothy is once more about to leave the room.</p><p>He will leave him. Rhys’ heart aches more than he expected. He was supposed to be angry, hurt, but all he feels is pain and loneliness, and what would he give for anger! But he is abandoned. Timothy will disappear from his life just like his former friends did, but he will be the only one to just up and go, abandoning him even though he is begging.</p><p>“Please, don’t go,” he whimpers, heavily trying to lift his body up again, but it is barely listening to him. His voice is high and raspy at the same time, and a half-muffled sob soon follows. Rhys bites his lip to prevent any more sounds like that form coming, but they force their way out anyway. Almost a year of living together probably does that; he doesn’t want Timothy to leave him.</p><p>The double stops, body tensing up even further. He peeks over his shoulder carefully, seeing Rhys wrestling with gravity, and sighs. “I have to,” he says, his voice mirroring the heaviness on his shoulders.</p><p>“No,” Rhys croaks out. “Please, I— What do I—? I love you, Timothy,” he manages to say, and then he breaks down. “I thought— I thought you did— <em>Fuck</em>, I’m—” He finally manages to stand up, one hand stabilising him on a wall, but his legs are weak and refuse to carry him forward.</p><p>“Rhys, I—” Timothy’s breath catches in his throat, and he finally turns around, just in time to see Rhys almost lose his balance again. He rushes to help him sit on the bed, and this time he stays, even without being held.</p><p>“I love you, too,” the Vault Hunter mutters. “I’m sorry, Rhys. I have to.” He begins to get up again. His healthy eye is glistening and his steps waver.</p><p>As a last resort, after losing all hope, Rhys says: “I wouldn’t… hurt you, Tim. If that is what you’re afraid of. I don’t… You know I wouldn’t.”</p><p>For a while, he is sure Timothy will just ignore it and go, but then he stops. Another sigh leaves him, this one sounding wet. “I know…”</p><p>“Then—” Rhys wants to beg him again, but Tim interrupts him.</p><p>“I can’t stay, Rhys. No-one must know. I…” he turns around, facing the CEO. “I trust you. That you won’t tell anybody, and that you will let me go.”</p><p>The words hit Rhys so hard he chokes, his chest too constricted to take a breath. Does Timothy<em> trust him?</em> No, he certainly doesn’t. He wouldn’t be leaving if he did. He doesn’t know what he is saying, how much he is hurting the younger man.</p><p>Rhys wants to say all of that, wants to explain that he can protect Tim, but in the end, he nods. His heart aches and tells him not to let the man go, but he can’t just force him to stay. If Timothy doesn’t feel safe with him, then maybe he should go, find a place where he will be happy.</p><p>The door of the apartment snaps shut, and Rhys doesn’t do anything for a long while. He fears that if he moves, he will run out of the house in his socks only and try to chase after Tim, but with the Vault Hunter’s ability to disappear, it would probably be futile, and Tim isn’t interested anyway.</p><p>Finally, Rhys moves, slowly. He echoes Lorelei that he won’t come to the office tomorrow, maybe ever, and to leave him alone for some time. Then he takes off his clothes, puts on one of Tim’s shirts that became his overtime (how could he ever <em>not</em> call Timothy Lawrence his boyfriend?!) and curls up in bed.</p><p>As an afterthought, Rhys takes the picture of Timmy off the wall and holds it carefully to his chest. So, Timmy is Tim. Timothy is Timmy…</p><p>If someone told him that, Rhys would never believe it. He had seen a lot in his life, but seeing a bird turn into a man, a man turn into a bird, that was something that reached Vault level of weird and unexpected.</p><p>Whatever was the explanation behind Timothy Lawrence’s shapeshifting, he was trying to protect it, and was willing to leave everything behind. Leave Rhys.</p><p>The CEO of Atlas cries himself to sleep after two or three hours. If he thought he is past that, past feelings that make him weak, past relying on people, then he was wrong. The day Timothy danced into his world, he fell in love with him. He already misses his hugs, his kisses, his shy smile, his humour, his love for cats, his— He misses him.</p><p>Rhys’ sleep is disturbed by nightmares, a headache, and occasional fresh outburst of feelings. He lets them flow, crying into his pillow and pitying himself like the fool he is. He feels more exhausted than he was after tearing his body apart to get rid of the evil AI.</p><p>It feels like a fever dream, like a hallucination, when a bit of light reaches his eyes and wakes him up. He is laying in the middle of the bed, tangled up in sheets and under pillows that feel too heavy to move away with how exhausted he is. If this is an assassin coming after him, he is powerless. But he keeps hoping that is not the case.</p><p>A weight settles on the edge of the bed behind him. Soon, a warm hand is on his back, slowly, tentatively moving to his shoulder. Rhys’ breath hitches and the hand stops for a second, but then it continues. A pressure on his shoulder makes him turn around. Rhys’ eyes meet Tim’s in the dim light.</p><p>Nothing is said as their bodies collide, lips meeting lips. Their faces are wet, but it is not clear which one is crying. Maybe they both are. Timothy holds Rhys close as if he were the one to disappear, and Rhys clings to Tim with all the strength he has left. Offhandedly, he notices that he is wearing a new t-shirt and smells of charred tyre, probably from driving a Cyclone.</p><p>They kiss and then they hug, foreheads resting against each other. They breathe the same air, and when Rhys sobs, they both shake with the force of it.</p><p>“I love you,” he says. “Please, don’t leave.”</p><p>“Never,” Tim assures him. He sounds much more relaxed now, as if he found a new confidence. “I love you too. I love you, Rhys.”</p><p>In the morning, Timothy will explain that the people on the planet he comes from turn into animals sometimes, randomly and spontaneously with little warning. They cannot control it, and they don’t have control of themselves in the animal form. It is a well-protected secret. Not even Handsome Jack knew. Tim is sure he would have been dead and taken apart if Jack found out.</p><p>Timothy will make breakfast and insist on smothering Rhys in his love. They will spend the day together, and after there are no things to discuss anymore, Rhys will draw Timmy, with Tim sitting next to him, humming a strange and familiar melody every now and then and touching him, reminding him that he is there and not leaving.</p><p>They will talk about their feelings and plans, too. But that will be the next day and evening. Right now, they will lay in each another’s arms, kiss, hug, and whisper their love into the darkness in hushed tones. Timothy will feel actually safe for the first time in his life with the weight of his secret now shared with his lover, and Rhys will feel secure, loved and wanted.</p><p>Fin.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>You can find me on <a href="https://twitter.com/ElfWriting">Twitter</a>. :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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